


See Me

by wordstowords03



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Last Jedi - Fandom
Genre: Canon, Daddy Issues, F/M, I do what I want, Kylo doesn't know what he wants, Multi, Other, Possible smut, Slow Build, abusive behaviors, but do any of us really, deviates from trilogy, first order violence shit, go resistance, multiple boo thangs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-09
Updated: 2020-01-26
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:14:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,283
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22182376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wordstowords03/pseuds/wordstowords03
Summary: (Starts just before "The Force Awakens." I've taken creative liberty with the plot; this is fanfiction, afterall.)Words to describe Calise: Fighter? Not quite. Resistance fighter? No dice. Jedi? You're kidding, right?Calise's fought the calling as long as she could remember. After witnessing her parents' death during their service with the First Order, Calise devoted herself to a life of distraction and avoidance - avoiding her fate, her destiny, her feelings - in aims of staying below of First Order's radar. But when the day comes for the Force to awaken, she finds herself in a whirl of destiny, devotion and deviance. Greater still, she finds herself staring upon the gleaming, silver-and-black plated helmet of the First Order's greatest weapon.Will she fall for his darkness, or cling to those who showed her the light? (Move over, Rey -- this Force is big enough for everyone.)
Relationships: Ben Solo | Kylo Ren/Original Female Character(s), Finn/Rey (Star Wars), Kylo Ren/Original Female Character(s), Kylo Ren/Rey, Leia Organa/Han Solo, Poe Dameron/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 21





	1. Chapter 1

_“You love me.”_

_She loathed that tone – that grating, metallic, unrelenting tone – that was fraught with condescension. She stormed through the training quarters, boots clomping against the black tile. She clutched her lightsaber close, frantically deployed the Force in search of his presence._

_“I don’t,” she said, voice cracking. Even she didn’t believe herself – not today, not here._

_“You do.”_

_A stir in the Force. She paused, drew the saber across her chest._

_“And how the hell would you know anything about love and compassion? You murdered your own father—“_

_He darted – too fast, too fast – and whirled her before him. She stared up at the black and silvery illusion of his mask and gasped when he drew her hands together behind her back. He eased the lightsaber from her fingers. She winced as it clamored to the ground._

_They stood just like so for a moment: her body trapped before his, her mind struggling against the pin-like pricks of the Force he used to probe her mind. He leaned forward and the hands that ensnared her wrists tightened with his effort._

_“I didn’t, not before you,” he admitted. Her face contorted under his mental scrutiny, and he touched his masked forehead to hers. He breathed out a metallic whirl, and withdrew. “Which makes your betrayal all the worse.”_

_He knew._

_“Kylo, the resistance can free us. You won’t have to fight what’s inside –”_

_“I know you believe that, I do,” he said simply. “That’s why I’m doing this. Forgive me.”_

_A cold sweat beaded down her neck and her heart beat out a clunky rhythm. The fiery glow of his lightsaber seared to life in his free hand. She thrust her backward, bared her neck to him with gritted teeth. Cool tears stung in her eyes – cool, to match the frigid, fragile end that she predicted. He edged the saber’s rounded tip closer, closer – it’s bumbling whirl resounding in her ears._

_Then, just as it was a breath away, he dropped it at her feet. A soft, metallic chuckled whizzed through the helmet._

_“As if I could live without you? No, there’s another way.” He leaned close. “I’ll strip away every memory of my mother, of him, of the resistance. By the time we’re through, you’ll be ready to resume the mantle by my side.” A metallic sigh. “Let’s just hope your love is strong enough.”_

_Her blue eyes drew wide._

_“Kylo, no, listen to me. This isn’t going to work, this isn’t going to fix this – fix us! You’re not thinking straight.”_

_“Enough now, Lise. It’ll be over soon, I promise.”_

_He lifted both hands to settle on her head._

_A shrill, harrowing scream left her throat. The glass walls of the training chambers fragmented at once, a rain of glass showered about their heads._

_***_

“Stop bringing me this bullshit hunk of junk. If I replace the compressor again, you’ll be looking for a new one.”

Poe rolled his eyes and slumped lazily against his precious X-Wing. His flying steed loomed in a Jakku hangar, its innards being jerked and twisted by the set of booted feet peering out beneath it. He kicked them playfully.

“Stop taunting my prized baby and just finish the job, alright? I’ve got a mission here.”

BB-8 whizzed and whirled beside him, spherical white-and-orange body swirling to and fro.

He huffed a sigh and patted his head before crouching on the floor. He braced a hand on the X-Wing and sought the toiling figure below. Hair so blonde it glistened like snow contrasted against the dark underbelly of the X-Wing, and lithe, calloused hands twisted and probed random trinkets and parts.

“Look, I’m sorry for being an ass. BB-8 told me to say that.” He swirled his head around to face his droid. “You happy now?”

A giggle echoed beneath the X-Wing and wheeled back into the dim lights of the hangar. She tossed her wheelie cart aside and shuttled to her feet, blonde hair lashing down her neck with the effort. She stretched her toes, arms, and legs, and neck, each join letting out a eerie, crinkly creak.

“All these years, and your body still sounds like a rusty droid,” Poe said, and flinched as she stretched another muscle.

“All these years, and you still can’t take care of your shit. How’d you end up with a gem like BB, anyway?” She placed a gentle hand on the droid’s head and giggled as he beeped and spun about. She entertained a smile before facing Poe head on.

He was the same as always: brusque, suave and swashbuckling. His bushy, brown hair was swooped just like it was when they were kids. His brown eyes smiled gently at hers and her palms were overtaken with beads of sweat. The longer she looked – the longer she dared measure his brawny, olive-tinted features – the more she grieved – she grieved, for the things she dared not have; the love she dared not claim.

_Off limits, always._

She gave herself a firm nod, crossed her arms and suctioned a hand to her elbow. A softness fell over Poe’s gaze and he stepped forward, just slightly, but close enough of her to embrace the extent of warmth, of temptation.

“I appreciate this, you know. Fixin’ me up like this, like when we were kids.”

She pursed her lips, lifted a brow. “Eh, when we were younger, though, you weren’t wrangling with TIE fighters and getting blasted into the galaxy.” She walked to her workstation and wiped her grease-stained hands on a rag, mindful of the little, little crevasse’s between her fingers. “Next time your ass gets blasted, find another mechanic.”

“Idle threats, Lise, idle threats.” Poe reached into the X-Wing seat compartment and grabbed his helmet. A warm grin lit his face as he tucked in onto his head, secured it into place. “Well, we’ve gotta get a move on for the General – resistance business. She sure could use your help on base, you know.

Calise’s eyes bent to the hangar, traced its sand-beaten features and grazed the humble piles of bolts littering the floors. Her eyes drifted to her fellow mechanics working nearby, then returned wistfully to Poe.

“The resistance isn’t a commitment I’m willing to make yet,” she said. “Repairing your shitty ships is the best I can do for now. Send my regards to the general.”

Regards – she hated how fucking formal that sounded. As though Leia was some acquaintance, and not the closest thing to a mother she possessed. Maternal touches, advice, training – Leia was her gateway to understanding who she was, why she existed.

Her hands shook, and that tell-tale pin prick probed the back of her skull. She fought against the urge to squeeze her eyes shut, to shutter away the Force’s temptation.

 _“One day, you’ll be ready,” Leia said, brown eyes as warm as summer._ “ _But you’ll have to let yourself feel it. You’ll have to let go.”_

Let go? No, no. Letting go wasn’t her forte. Even saying good-bye to Poe – as dear, and annoying, and old he was to her – was agony. Letting go meant losing control; it meant feeling, and suffering, and reeling – reeling from the realization that no matter how promising the lure of something greater was – of how promising the Force was – she would still be a meager, inferior mechanic with little destiny, and even littler might.

_I can’t even let him go._

She watched timidly as Poe climbed into the X-Wing and roared it to life. BB-8 nestled behind him, and the pair cheered as the X-Wing was brought to life once more. Over the whirl of the blades, he flashed her a smarmy grin and bid her adieu.

“The sooner I find that map, the sooner I’ll return. That’s a promise!,” he shouted.

“Keep your rebel scum out of my garage,” she shouted in turn and waved as man and droid rolled away, and launched into the sky to continue their search on Jakku.

The pain – sharper this time – seized her. She gasped at its grip, grit her teeth to steel against it. When it subsided, she heard a muffled, daunting voice. Someone close, but far enough to evade her sight.

_I see you._

She gripped her elbow tightly, so tightly she felt the sharp sting of nails against her skin. Her eyes scanned the hangar desperately.

 _Not yet,_ the voice said. _Soon._


	2. Chapter 2

Calise sighed beneath the undercarriage of a cruiser and clutched a wrench to her chest.

It was fruitless – repairing such a vehicle – when the world rattled around her. The mechanics in the garage all huddled in corners, watching the wrath of the First Order leave a bloody trail amid the sands of Jakku.

She could just discern the distant flames through the hangar windows. Though miles away, tendrils of smoky devastation still funneled into the hangar, and prompted an occasional cough. She could also hear the screams – the fearful, wretched screams – of the villagers as they fell.

A final, shrill shriek pierced the air before all fell silent. Calise glanced up at the colony of pipes and gears above her and clenched her fist.

_Sacrifices. So many sacrifices._

A memory nearly as hazy as the smoke that drifted beneath the cruiser sifted through her mind. An agonizing memory; a memory she tried desperately to suppress. As the haze thickened, the edges of her memory stretched, and that agony assumed the shape of a stoic general with stiff shoulders and a sixteen-rayed hexagon on his sleeve.

_“Their sacrifice was not in vain,” he said as he paced before her. “The Order is stronger for having known them.”_

_The commander paused and observed her with a cold, calculating a gaze. A gaze meant to analyze, not sympathize. A spark blossomed in her chest, and soon raged into an uncontrollable fire._

_They were slaughtered, and they don’t care. Slaughtered!_

A sharp gasp pierced her reverie and she pressed a burning hand to quell the rapid rise and fall of her chest.

_Burning hand?_

She lifted her arm gently and gasped at the keen stinging in her palm. Her wrench – relentlessly constricted by her fist – penetrated her palm, sparking tiny rivlets of crimson to stream down her arm. She brusquely wiped it on her slacks and tore off a strip of her shirt, baring her mid-drift.

“Ow, shit, shit, shit,” she whispered to herself as she wound the cloth around her hand and stilled beneath the cruiser once more.

Where the world fell silent, it suddenly seared with the clatter of metal. The ground grumbled around Calise, and the clunky, hovering sound of ships sounded outside the hangar. There was a definitive clunk when they landed, followed by a flurry of feet and voice.

“Our commander’s ship is in need of an urgent repair,” an altered voice said. “Valve leak. You’ll fix it in the name of the First Order.”

_Stormtroopers._

Her hearted quickened.

“Valve leak? On that thing?” She could hear the disbelief in Ray, a fellow mechanic’s tone, and heard his cumbersome footsteps as he walked toward the edge of the hangar to examine the ship.

In the floor’s reflection, she could just discern the ship’s ominous, ebony edges. Her eyes widened, and her hands itched to snag a closer look.

_It must be an Upsilon class. I bet it banks –_

She shook herself. No, she couldn’t think that way – not about something that belonged to the First Order. But there was still an excitement she couldn’t quell, a stirring in her stomach. To see a command shuttle again, to delve inside, and analyze its complex parts and motors… An exhilarating shiver snaked down her spine.

“Is there a problem, mechanic?”

There was a scuffle, then a gasp from Ray.

“Yea— I mean, no, no – it’s just, we don’t have much experience working with First Order ships. They’ve come a long way since the Empire days, and we don’t know the tech.”

“Surely, it’s simple enough,” a new voice approached. One that was dark, and stoic, and stiff.

Ray’s voice trembled now: “Well, see, General, it’s not that easy. No one here understands how -- ”

“You’re a mechanic, aren’t you? Repairing a valve is difficult?” He released an imperial huff. “Perhaps, you’ve chosen the wrong profession. If you cannot usefully serve the First Order, I’m afraid we’ll have to be rid of you.”

There was a shuffling, and then the sound of Ray’s deep cries: “I’ll take a look, I swear! But I won’t b-b-be able to help! We’re just not experienced!”

“Then, I suppose there’s no use for any of you. Troops, scan the area. Eliminate them and see if we can summon a repairman from Base.”

Calise clenched her injured fist.

_No, I can’t reveal myself. I can’t. What if they notice me? What if –_

“Yes, sir. Scan the area and prepare to fire.”

She heard the tell-tale clacking of StormTrooper armor, and could imagine them efficiently lifting their blasters, aiming one at Ray’s chest –

Calise crossed her arms of her chest and spun out from beneath the cruiser. She lurched to her feet and darted into the fray of Stormtroopers until she skidded to a stop between Ray, and the General.

“No, wait! Please! I can help!” Her breaths lifted her chest, and fright rattled her fists. She looked upon the pale General. He was a modestly tall man, with shortly cropped ginger hair that was primly tucked beneath a First Order cap.

He’s just a random commander, she convinced herself. No one who could trace her, or her parents, back to the order.

The General raised a hand to still the surge of Stormtroopers at my back, nodded for me to continue.

“I helped restore an old Empire ship with a client last year,” she lied, proudly jutting out her squared chin. “He gutted the inside, and replaced everything with updated Order tech. This model should have the same basic principles.”

The General’s eyes glittered with curiosity, and she couldn’t help but think how un-Order-like it was for him to tilt his head and release a soft hum.

Ray’s eyes were wide as moons and his chin trembled slightly.

 _No, kid,_ he mouthed before being shoved by the solider behind him.

“Very well. Let’s put your skills to the test,” the General said. “Follow me.”

There was a stir behind Calise, and suddenly two Stormtroopers loomed over her. One gestured forward with his blaster, and Calise quickly trailed behind the General, casting a small smile to the mechanics left gaping in the hangar.

As she approached the ship, the inkling of fear she harbored evaporated, and she swelled with awe instead. The last time she saw a black, grand ship of this magnitude, she was a teenager. Now, at 21, the ship seemed even more massive, grandiose even. Several dispatch shuttles laid on either side of the command shuttle, and Calise observed the Stormtroopers as they wiped villager from their crisp, white uniforms. She tried to suppress a shiver and looked past them as the general led them through the ship’s loading day.

The shuttle’s inside was crisp, streamlined, and accented with silver-and-black trimmings. Calise’s boots clomped against its shiny , black tiles as they entered the ship’s command bay.

She looked above the pilot’s seat and eyed the array of storage compartments and blinking lights. Judging by the light trail of steam that drifted into the cabin, she’d find her leak just above the middle compartment.

Wordlessly, she hopped atop the plush pilot’s seat and reached a hand to begin dismantling the compartment. Voices blurred around her, but her focus – her keen, keen focus – was poured into her work. She reached a hand into her belt and began her repairs. A trooper handed her a part when requested, and watched her carefully work. A series of unscrewing, careful cursing, and maneuvering was all it took to restore order to an otherwise immaculate ship.

She drew a forearm across her forehead and turned to the general.

“You’re good, but if we’re being thorough, I should probably check out the back end. Just for insurance.”

The General observed her carefully.

“A curious thing, how easily you were able to remedy the leak, when you’ve had little exposure to our ships.”

She was careful to keep her face composed, shoulders loose, though her hands began to clench.

“I’m a quick study,” she said coolly, gesturing to the area she repaired. “As I said, I helped replaced the interior before, and it was pretty much the same concept.”

“Quick indeed,” he said and crossed his hands behind his back. “SN-251, escort the mechanic to the utility cabin. Allow her to run some tests.”

With that, he marched back through the command doors and off the shuttle, leaving Calise to follow a Stormtrooper through the command shuttle.

“So, is the uniform stifling?” She asked, watching the white fastenings of the Stormtrooper’s outfit click as he walked. “Doesn’t look like it allows much air flow.”

The Stormtrooper merely huffed, walked forward.

“You’re right, you’re right – I hate small talk. It’s still better than asking where you’re from, since I’m assuming you wouldn’t know—”

“Over there.” He interrupted and used the edge of his blaster to point to a black panel. She stumbled toward it, then unscrewed the black, glossy panel. She knocked a gauge and flipped through an electronic pad, eyes scanning familiar Qualtrics.

It was when she was a breath away from finishing that she felt it – the prick. Hot at first, then cold as glaciers as it dominated her mind. She grit her teeth against it, forced it away.

 _Not today, not today,_ she thought and quickly closed the panel. She looked at the Stormtrooper and nodded, previous humor dissolved.

 _Why not?_ The deep voice again, metallic, prominent. _Why are you resisting it?_

 _Get the fuck out of my head,_ she said.

 _You’re close,_ he said. She could practically feel the gears in the stranger’s head turn. _But where?_

Her eyes slid to her chaperone. He was oblivious and continued to walk beside her.

The stranger’s presence continued to burn his way through her skull, and she fought the urge to brace her hands on either side of her head. She had to fight it, had to fight _him._

_Nosey bastard._

She summoned the remainder of her mental strength to shove away the incessant force tugging at her thoughts, to shove away _him._ When she looked up, the Stormtrooper was escorting her back down the ship’s ramp. The General stood at the bottom and nodded as she passed.

“I take it your repairs were sufficient?”

Mental guard still raised, she smiled at him and nodded.

“You’re all set, but watch the lightspeed jumps until you get back. You should probably have one of your men clear it.”

“Astute recommendation,” he said sarcastically, nodded to her once. “The First Order is grateful for your service. In exchange, you’ll keep your life.”

Her eyes scanned the rapid flames in the distance, fiery talons still reaping its way from the massacred village miles below. The houses were aflame; structures obliterated; inhabitants scorched.

“A generous gift, General,” she said, fighting the snark from creeping into her voice.

His lips screwed into a hideous smirk and he gestured for the surrounding soldiers to allow her through. She took a hesitant step forward, then another, until she was steadily striding toward the hangar.

With each step she took, the prickling in her head returned. She saw Ray in the distance, lifted a hand to ward him away before she pressed a clenched fist to her forehead.

 _I can’t fight him,_ she panicked. _He’s too damn strong._

She moaned once before the image struck her. A blur of black and silver glinted in her mind – brief, succinct – and brought the smallest bit of reprieve. Blinking lights sung across the distorted image until it became a mask. The deep, metallic voice rung triumphantly through her thoughts, clear and strong:

_There you are._

The image disappeared and Calise sprang toward the hanger. The balls of her feet lashed against the sand.

Behind her, movement stirred, and armor clicked.

That deep, lifeless voice said:

“ _Seize the girl!”_

A sea of white surrounded the hangar and Calise spung on her heel to face them. Stormtroopers faced her – one by one – with blasters ready and shoulders stiffened. She backed herself against the hangar’s doors, closed her eyes against the relentless pounding in her chest.

 _You feel it,_ the voice was soothing now, deep and soft. _Use it._

She shook her head, dug her feet into the sand.

_I see your desires – I know what you want to do. So, do it. Imagine it and push._

_Push, push…_

In her mind, she could see the formidable array of stormtroopers barreling down upon her. She swiped a hand across her imagination, warding them away, until they disappeared into the night.

_Leave me alone! Just go back to your fucking base and leave me the hell alone!_   
  


There was a clattering sound of movement – like cars crashing into one another – then silence.

Her chest fell and rose rapidly, her breathing more so. She let both still to gentle tones before her open her eyes.

Her eyes met the stoic general’s first. He stood at the entryway to the command shuttle, eyes wide. Then, beside him, was the mask in her mind.

The mask belonged too a figure. Tall, imposing, and covered in dark, elaborate robes, the mask man seemed almost triumphant. He turned his head toward her, eyeing her through the mask, then softly swiveled his head to survey the scene.

She followed his eyes and brought a shaky fist to cover her lips.

All about her, white limbs were splayed. They twisted and turned; bayed and bent; rolled and ran. She heard muffled moans of pain as some attempted to stir, to rise, before crumpling to the sand once more.

Carnage.

She was responsible for _carnage._

The masked man strode from the command shuttle’s platform, flanked by a stormtrooper in gleaming armor. The soldier stood at the ready, blaster cocked. The shadow of the man loomed before her, and Calise felt a warmth spread through her limbs; probing and familiar.

“Finally, we meet,” the masked man said, metallic voice flat. A drew forth a gloved hand, hovered it before her face. She lunged backward, fist clenched behind her.

“Rest now.”

His voice was the last thing she heard before his hand drifted over her face and darkness consumed her.


	3. Chapter 3

_“Hold still, Calise.”_

_Her mother tsked at the wound on her palm, unfolded the haphazard bandage Calise wrapped about it. White-blonde sprigs of hair fell in loose curls about her face as she toiled, calloused hands gentle with the wound before her._

_In the distance, her father peered over at the two, a grim smile taunting his lips. Calise jerked toward him, her hand moving just out of her mother’s grasp._

_“Be mindful of your mother, Lise. Hold still.”_

_“Hold still, Hold still…”_

“Hold still, miss.”

Calise exhaled a soft, panicked gasp at the droid grasping her wrist. He wrangled it still as she jerked, its cool metal grasp firm on her arm. “Don’t want to hurt you, miss. Please hold still.”

Beeps sounded from the small medical droid as he bandaged her afflictions. He was methodical when he worked, precise, as only a droid could be. When it sufficiently smothered her wounds, it wheeled away, abandoning her to her new surroundings.

It was a modestly sized room with an ominous air. Everywhere she looked she saw black: black tiles, black walls, black screens, and a black galaxy outside her window. It was through that small window to her right that she watched the stars and planets whirl in silence, trapped in a galactic darkness.

Calise peered down at the plush bed beneath her. It was small, suited for her body alone, but comfortable. Her achy joints melted into the mattress as she shifted, too eager to discover more of her surroundings than rest. She’d barely lumbered off the bed, however, when she noticed the set of looming Stormtroopers across the room.

_Fucking shit._

The memories of fallen Stormtroopers crashed into her like a wave, sending her gripping the bed railing for support. It weighed her down as it pressed over her, plagued her thoughts with agonized moans and twisted limbs.

_That was all my fault, all my fault! They didn’t deserve that; they were innocents that were just following orders. They didn’t deserve to be murdered._

“No, they didn’t.”

She stumbled back toward the bed again and used her hands to catch herself on its mattress. Before her, a door opened, allowing a massive figure of darkness to lumber through. He wore the same silver and black mask which was accented by a thick, black cowl. As he entered, he waved the Stormtroopers back through the door he arrived.

 _You._ She grit her teeth, jabbed a finger in the figure’s direction.

“ _You asshole!”_ She said, leaping forward and striding toward the cowled man. “I did that awful – awful – thing because of _you.”_

A small whizz of air escaped through the mask – like a laugh.

“No, that was you,” he said. “I just encouraged you to let go. You suppressed the darkness for too long. All you needed was a push.”

_Darkness?_

Leia’s encouraging words streaked through her mind – words of promises, wishes and hopes. Surely her faith – the faith Leia had in her and the force – wasn’t subject to darkness?

“Don’t worry. I felt it, too.”

He whirled away from her, stared out the window of the whirling galaxy.

“I don’t want to feel _it._ Why do you think I avoided the Force for so long, hm? I don’t want it, I don’t want _any_ of it. I just want to return home.”

Another sizzle of air.

She drilled holes into the back of his mask, loathed the grating, emotionless bass of his altered voice.

“If you’re going to mock me, do it so I can see you, coward.”

He turned slowly, bent his masked face to the side inquisitively. His lithe body moved forward and a hand reached out to grapple the air before him. Instantly, Calise was seized by her neck and lifted into the air. She didn’t bother to claw at the invisible hands that seized her throat, but glared at their owner.

“Still… a… …c…coward,” she ground out, blue eyes narrowed to slits from pain.

“Your strength is noble, but still no match for mine. You know I can take whatever I want,” he jerked her forward, so she was a breath away from his mask. He hovered her there a moment, with her hastened breathing and shaky legs, then finally withdrew his hand. Calise gasped as she crumpled to the ground beneath his feet, a hand seizing her throat. “Don’t provoke me again.”

“Just t-take off the mask,” she huffed,” and I won’t have to.”

“It stays until you’ve earned my respect,” he garbled simply, magnified voice imperious to her obvious distress.

 _“_ And why the hell should I worry about earning your respect? I’m a prisoner. Execute me already, or send me back to Jakku. I promise, I won’t be of any value to you.”

“Your value speaks for itself,” he said. “You’re a skilled mechanic and an undiscovered user of the Force. Your memories – they’re a labyrinth of secrets, secrets I plan to dissect and use to serve the First Order. I already know you’ve seen the droid.” Her eyes widened as BB-8’s orange-and-white visage roved across her mind. He beeped behind a pilot, Poe. Her heart raced in her chest.

_Poe, where are you?_

The masked man reached out a gloved hand to grasp her chin. He held it gently in his palm, tilted her gaze toward his. Through the black and silver mask she envisioned a man – shriveled and tortured – that was capable of slaughtering innocents and stealing them from their lives. It would be a worthy motivation of such a man, of such a killer.

Yet, by the soft, gentleness of his touch, she had an inkling she was wrong.

“Jakku, the hangar – you have nothing to go back to, nothing. You belong to the first order now where we’ll put your skills to use while you train. In time, you’ll learn to channel the Force and serve the order beyond repairing ships.”

“Train? Like – like a Jedi?” She shook her head fin his grasp, felt the pin-prick of hysterics bumble in her throat. “No – no – that’s – that’s not my fate. You basically just told me that I’m being forced into this – that – that my life’s been nothing. That I’ve accomplished nothing – done nothing –”

“Because you haven’t,” he said brusquely. “You repaired broken things and you ran from the Force… and from something else.” He inched her chin closer and tears began to burn at the edge of her vision. “You’ll tell me. Soon.”

“I won’t tell you shit,” she grit between her teeth, an errant tear streaming down her face.

“Soon,” he said simply and dropped his hand from her chin. He straightened and turned toward the door. “The Supreme Leader demands your training begin tomorrow. You’ll start with defense basics and accompany me on missions. Someone will be by soon with instructions.”

She stared after him with tearful eyes and clenched her hands into fists. The blackness of his cloaks nearly dissolved into the floor as he strode.

_You denied it for too long. It was only a matter of time. I should’ve stayed with Leia, should’ve run to the resistance._

It was too late now. She was trapped, and she would have to buy her time until she could find an escape. She doubted she’d get very far by the time tall, dark and murderous captured her.

“And what should I call you, then?,” she shouted after him.

He paused before the door, twisted his head over his shoulder.

“Master Ren,” he said simply, and left her to her thoughts.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't edited yet, so please excuse the plentiful errors. :( Thanks for reading!

Starkiller Base was an infuriating ship – one that spun into level after level; Stormtrooper after Stormtrooper. Calise spent the better part of an hour trying to piece together the black, marble halls until a trooper found her in a corridor and hauled her into the command bay.

“Do they sear a map into your brain as part of your brainwashing or…?”

“Keep walking,” the trooper boomed, white hand jostling her forward. Calise grunted at the touch, rolled her eyes.

“Why are all of you so handsy? It’s possible to give a command without **_touching people!”_**

The Trooper wasn’t entirely to blame for her foul mood. She’d been shoved around my stormtroopers – from room to room, shuttle to shuttle – all morning for trainings, getting intimate sessions on repairing TIE-fighters and shuttles. All of which was boring – boring because her parents had taught her everything they knew. Each knob, each gasket; the tech hadn’t changed.

Neither had the uniforms, apparently.

Calise clomped through the ship boasting her finest First-Order black. It was a stifling uniform with a high collar and stiff countenance. Her trousers refused to wrinkle when she walked, and her white-blonde hair swished irritably between her shoulders. She avoided mirrors as she walked past them, wary of the ghost she’d see there. The ghost of her mother; the ghost of times past.

_“There, just like your mother.”_

_Her father smiled as he lifted a First Order cap over her head. Its flaps rested comfortably against her ears like a second skin. Tiny holes burrowed in his cheeks when he smiled._

The trooper paused in the command bay and nodded to a figure bent over a computer. The figure raised a gloved hand, commanding the trooper elsewhere.

As the trooper fell away, the figure across the room stalked closer. If his prim, ginger hair and pinched lips were any indication, he must be the commander from Jakku. His eyes raked over her coolly.

“You’re late,” he said, words clipped.

“Lost in translation,” she said, “it’s a big ass ship.”

He shook his head at her, drew his hands together behind his back.

“You’ll speak with respect when addressing superiors. I’d have thought Ren would’ve taught you that.”

 _That would involve communicating,_ she thought bitterly. _Not his forte, if I had to guess._

“This may come as a surprise, but he hasn’t been very helpful. With anything, really. And, if you couldn’t tell already, I’m not big on authority.”

The man’s lips twitched.

“Well, allow me to introduce you to the First Order. You shall address your superiors appropriately and without profanity. You’ll refer to me as General Hux.”

“Sir, yes, sir,” she said with a mock salute.

“As General, I’ll be issuing your assignments and missions. It is my understanding that Ren will be overseeing the more intricate parts of your training, while I will be preparing you tactically. Given that my _actual_ job is to command an army, I’ve entrusted your training to Captain TS-458.”

A small movement stirred next to him, and a silver stormtrooper emerged. The lights of the command bay reflected off his uniform. He nodded at her through his mask, formally saluted the General.

“Captain TS-458 will keep me abreast of your progress. As it happens, he will also be your squadron leader on missions. You’ll report to him when your mechanic services are needed. I trust this all makes sense, unless you’d like me to recap more slowly?”

She could barely contain the grin that darted across her lips.

_Hux has bite._

“The speed of your explanation was more than sufficient.” He raised a prim brow. “Sir – it was sufficient, General sir.”

“Captain, escort Miss Calise to the training facilities. She’s all yours.”

***

For what it was worth, Captain TS-458 was no stiff. Though quiet on their detour to the training facilities, he was like a wildfire in combat. When he modeled movements he was thorough, precise, and narrated each movement so Calise could understand.

Within moments, Calise was mastered complex concepts and launching blaster bullets. The captain corrected her movements when needed and encouraged her with stiff nods. After another hour of training, Calise’s face ran with sweat as she repelled another one of his attacks with her staff.

“Keep both feet on the ground,” the captain reminded. “Without balance, your strength does nothing.”

 _Me? Strong?_ A beat of excitement raced through her chest.

“Praise won’t win your battles. Focus.”

“No,” she breathed, dodging an advancement a cradling her side with her free hand. “But it sure helps.”

“I’m not convinced.” He chastised her sudden weakness and whacked his staff against her side. The movement sent her sprawling on the ground. She sighed as her head bounced against the training room floor and clutched a training staff against her chest.

“Damn it,” she whispered.

“That should be sufficient for today.” The captain shook his head and busied himself with reracking weapons, the white plates of his uniform clicking together as he moved. She watched him a moment, before jolting upward at the loud clanging of the training room door.

“Commander, sir,” Capain TS-458 stood stiffly as Ren marched past him. His swirling ebony robes stopped where Calise sat and he moved his hand in a summoning motion.

“Stand,” he said stiffly, metallic voice box grating as ever.

She squinted at him from the ground, lifted a hand to shroud her eyes. She sardonically examined his towering, lithe form and pointed toward the training room ceiling.

“Tell me, how’s the weather up there? Is it raining unchecked masculinity and superiority?”

He simply continued to loom. Beneath his mask, Calise imagined a brooding brow and a hint of a smile. _She_ certainly thought it was funny.

“Stand. _Now.”_

She huffed a sigh and hefted to her feet, knees creaky with protest. For all the days she spent laboring under cruisers, it did null to prepare her for the physical labors training. Fighting – as a Stormtrooper or otherwise – was painstaking. Her bristling side was proof.

Ren circled her like a shark, eyes scrutinizing beneath his mask with each round. When he paused, it was to retrieve his lightsaber from his robes. It seared to life with a fiery, red fervor. Gooseflesh bubbled down Calise’s arms.

_Shit, not today._

A visage of Leia crossed through her mind. Her lessons on lightsabers, of the time she revealed to Calise her own. Using one was an art, she said, and wielding it properly took focus, strength.

If her throbbing side was any indication, Calise was in short supply of both.

“Commander,” the captain said, altered voice hesitant. “Excuse me, but her usefulness is exhausted until she properly rests. She is too weak to resume training today.”

Ren’s free hand shot out and pushed forward. The Captain’s body flew against the wall causing a tiny crack to appear in the marble.

“I decide the girl’s usefulness,” he hissed and lowered his hand. The captain’s armored body thumped to the floor. “You’re dismissed, captain.”

Calise darted toward him, only to be struck by an invisible barrier. She ground out a bitter curse and turned on her heel to face Ren. Her lips were pent into a sneer as she shoved a finger in his vicinity.

“Is that how you treat your soldiers? He’s been here all day doing the job you shoved onto him because you’re too damn busy plotting, scheming and murdering.” She clenched her hands into fists. “So far, he’s been the only _helpful_ individual on this hovering labyrinth of a ship. Show him some fucking respect.”

Ren tilted his head, inched forward inquisitively.

“Ironic. The untamed mechanic who nearly slaughtered a squadron is giving lessons on respect. Tell me,” he said, “didn’t you respect _them_ enough to spare their lives?”

Calise found herself taking a step backward, fists shaking. Ren followed her as she did, lightsaber glowing in his grasp.

“That’s different,” she said solemnly. “I didn’t want to do that. I didn’t choose –”

“Yes, you did. You took what you wanted and others paid the price. Soldiers know not to offer advice when it’s not solicited. He paid the price for his transgression.”

She could feel the red-hot warning of rage creeping over her shoulders, her chest. Her eyes darted to her abandoned staff in the corner.

“Shoving him against a wall and potentially _injuring_ him was a just punishment? Give me a break.”

He hovered before her now, his mask a breath away from her face. She could feel the air against as he spoke. She cursed that mask for what seemed like the millionth time, and unfolded one of her fists to shake feebly in the air.

“On Jakku, in the garage – did you give those men a break? Or did you eliminate them? Crush them, and break them so you could escape? So you could –”

Her scream penetrated the training room as her discarded weapon from earlier soared across the room, and into her grasp. Fueled by rage, she swiveled on her feet and whipped the staff toward him.

Ren bowed back, sending the staff to swipe the air above him, then rallied. His saber whirred as he descended upon her, each strike impassioned and precise. Calise parried left, then right, then jumped beyond the searing tip of his saber.

For an instance, she managed to whack the staff against his shoulder. She barked out a satisfied laugh when he paused. Though, she was instantly regretful when he hailed upon her with renewed fervor.

The stinging heat of the lightsaber sung closely to her exposed skin – too closely. When he swiped at her again, he sliced her staff in half, leaving her to gape at the two sizzling ends of her weapon.

_Fuck, what now? What now?_

She could feign left, or even right, and try to disarm him with the remnants of her staff, but neither options seemed particularly appealing. Especially since he was gaining on her quickly – too quickly.

When he lunged at her, an unfamiliar instinct overtook Calise’s body. She felt herself spinning upward, twirling, beyond his saber’s reach. She launched over herself and sailed through the air, flipping just beyond his reach.

Her eyes widened and she dropped the frayed pieces of her weapons.

_Did I just –_

She yipped as Ren gained on her again. The two engaged in a small, viscous dance. It was a dance of predator and prey; lunging and dodging. Their brief battle met its brutal conclusion when the edge of his saber seared into her injured side. She screamed into the pain and collapsed onto her knees. With trembling hands she caressed her side, only to gasp in agony at the unbearable stinging the action caused.

So great was her pain, she couldn’t muster the strength to glare at Ren as he loomed before her and succumbed the red light of his saber to its holster at his side.

“Your rage only works as long as you actively make decisions,” he said. “Stop hesitating and make a move before your opponent does.”

She supposed he was right – about decisions, at least. She spent her life running from them. From the Force, to her parents, she was hesitant. She’d become so preoccupied with avoiding decisions, she’d become prey to them.

“That didn’t work out so well last time,” she said, though her voice emerged as a bleated whine. Her lungs clunked deadly in her chest exhausted.

“It’ll come easier as you learn to control the Force.”

Suddenly, the giant of a man kneeled before her. Gloved hands frisked hers away and reached for the neckline of her blouse. He tore the fabric apart in his hands, the fabric feebly unraveling as he stripped it away.

Left in a tight sports bra, Calise instantly shrunk away. He huffed through his mask and use the Force to freeze her in place.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” she shouted, though the venom was muffled by shrill undertones of pain.

He shook his masked head and scrutinized the wound on her side. A black, jagged line seared through her milky flesh. She watched with acute horror as he raised a hand to caress it, to trace a finger along it. She prepared to writhe in pain, yet found herself to be blissfully numb, as though his touch were a balm.

He lifted his masked face to level with her stare. He left a gloved hand to rest against her belly, its warmth radiating to her core. As she stared upon him, she felt a pestering longing grow – a longing she’d seldom entertained; a longing she reserved for the errant thought of Poe.

She felt her lips part; tasted the small, hesitant breath that lingered between them.

The brash, irreverent clanging of an alarm broke through the training room. Ren broke his hold on her and darted to his feet. He used to the Force to fling open to training room doors where the Captain stood, seemingly unruffled from his earlier attack.

“Transport her to the medical bay,” he said. “She stays with you at all times. Don’t leave her side.”

With that, he was gone, tromping off to address the distress that was plaguing Starkiller base.

Calise crossed her arms over her chest, cast her burning gaze away from the Captain.

“The alarm – what’s it mean?” She asked, hoping he’s pity her and answer.

He gently wrapped his hand around her forearm and hauled her upward. She cowered against his side as he took a tentative step forward. He cocked a blaster in his other hand and gestured for a group of Stormtroopers outside to follow him.

When he spoke again, his answer was clipped, brief: “A prisoner has escaped.”


End file.
